


The Thin Crack of Sunlight

by brawltogethernow



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Also Fistfights, Altered States, Blackrom, Cousin Incest, F/F, Flipping Power Dynamics, Hate Makeouts, Prompt Fic, heads up for insults about weight/promiscuity, i bought a heart in a business arrangement, that's not played for kink or...acknowledged, what do you call hate sex when everything's pg-13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawltogethernow/pseuds/brawltogethernow
Summary: Dosed up on Movit 11 and on the run through the Castle, Zola ends up alone in a cozy nook with her least favorite person.





	The Thin Crack of Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asuka Kureru (Askerian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/gifts).



> I finally got to use a vs. tag.... (Every relationship tag on this was new: Please pity me for how many times I had to type Malfeazium.)
> 
> I knocked out most of this _at least_ four years ago for a prompt on the gg kinkmeme for Agatha/Zola hatemance. One day I'll dig up the prompt itself, but for now it's here! It's all very backwards. This is a genre in which I possess neither skill nor talent, but I'm trying hard to remember the "holy shit two cakes" philosophy.
> 
> Technically this is set after a slightly sideways version of the fight in the greenhouse where Zola doesn't successfully stab Zeetha before she retreats.

No way, no way, no way! There was _no way_ she was going to let Agatha Heterodyne live, with her perfect _Spark_ and her perfect _hair_ and her perfect _credentials._ She just couldn't, not the woman who was born — not made, born! — for _her_ spot, hers!

Well, it was Zola's now, and just because there was a fat whore trying to take it didn’t mean she was going to _give it up._

She took a corner so fast her sweater snagged on it. Her whole system was shot. She could feel it, the shaky energy you get after the fifth all-nighter when in the next fifteen minutes you might party, write a five-page paper, or black out, but you’ve got to pick one fast or else you’re not going to get options. She needed to stop and think, but losing her momentum now would be disastrous.

Lucrezia’s voice was fainter and had taken on an incomprehensible and, weirdly, clanging quality as her own attention became more scattered, so the neural snare worked, at least. She should be able to sleep this off, safely, without relinquishing control and running the risk of her body getting up without her. Which could be disastrous by this point, so, ha, good thing, right?

She ducked down a hallway that if she was remembering the maps properly should be a good bet, but she wasn’t, or she was but they weren’t accurate — it was a dead end. Not a proper one — just caved in a few yards down by a mini avalanche, long enough ago for the stones to be growing moss.

It was a two second mistake but then _but then,_ she spun around to find Agatha Heterodyne already there. She was blocking her into the no-good hallway, looking fierce and proud and kind of irritated. She was not at all afraid. _Itwasinfuriating._

Zola hated her, she hated her she hated her she _hated_ her. Why did Gil like _her_ so much? Was it something about her voice? Her bearing? And she'd caught the conspiracy’s king piece in her net, too. _He_ wasn’t even that cute, but he should have been _hers,_ there was an _agreement._ He was her _right_.

Everything had the foul smell of spoiled plans, an oily soup seasoned with great hefty chunks of her _real_ dreams, _also_ cubed up by Agatha Heterodyne. If she couldn’t have Gil, it should have been because he didn’t want _anybody._ She was almost reconciled to that. Not enough to give up, but. It should _not_ be because he found his fairy tale true love in this perfect princess who was a missing heir and a genius and beautiful and who was out to _steal everything_ Zola had _ever been promised_ , everything Zola had _earned_ , and anything she’d ever so much as idly wished for, to boot.

She didn’t _get_ it. If Gil did like people and did like women, why didn’t he like _her?_

With no way to use the tools at her disposal to go forward, up, or down, she tried to duck back the way she came. It shouldn't be too hard to clear the dead end and then maybe collapse it after her on her least favorite adversary. But Agatha stuck out a foot and tripped her, and Zola was so off her game that it felt like she was watching from outside her body as she pitched forward and Agatha tackled her out of the stumble, taking advantage of her sputtering reflexes to get her into a hold that was practiced enough to have to be textbook to somebody, but that Zola didn’t recognize.

Bereft of an equally textbook counter, Zola headbutted her, sending her reeling back. Her grip only tightened, though, gouging into Zola's arms with painful strength. Unfortunate.

“Damn you!” the madgirl spit as a solitary trickle of blood coursed down from her nose, and theretherethere, anger was a _good_ response. She _should_ be angry. Angry was almost afraid. They should all be afraid. Zola’s seen enough megalomaniacs passionately convinced of just that to know that _she_ was what was _really_ scary.

Agatha shoved her up against a hard stone wall to trap her further. A _mistake. So kind of you_ , thought Zola, and used the leverage her _amateur_ opponent had given her to kick the other girl in the gut.

Agatha hit the opposite wall and Zola was _already there_ , pressing her up against it before she could recover, close enough to be perfect for suppressing movement _and_ administering poisons, if you were certain your target didn’t have any themself. She was one of these _hero_ types, who Zola knew back to front and suffice to say that she _doubted_ it.

Zola leaned in close. “I’m going to show you,” she breathed against her face, “who’s _right._ ”

 _Now_   the wench was rightfully terrified. She was breathing kind of heavily as she tried to lean away, and —

Oh.

_Oh._

Zola blinked. It felt like it took a very long time for her eyelids to connect and then gather the energy to separate again. But it couldn’t have really taken that long, that must have been a trick of perception, because when she looked at Agatha Heterodyne again she looked the same, infuriated, flushing faintly, and her eyes snagged on Zola’s lips.

 _This_ is an advantage Zola knew how to press — and it was only right, for her to be wanted, desired, this made _sense_ , not like everything else that had been happening on this expedition to this collapsed hellhole — and after a half second’s weighing she closed the crucial few inches to smother the Heterodyne’s mouth with her own.

Agatha made a surprised, squeaking _mmf!_ sound, twitching away but without anywhere to go with the wall against her back, eyes going huge. Zola growled and pressed closer, accidentally knocking at Agatha's big stupid glasses with her cheek. She still had the nerve to play demure? With _both_ the men who should belong to Zola on her string? It had to be entirely to make Zola look like the loose one, damn her. Well, there was nothing for that _now_ but to double down and then make fun of her for being a naïve virgin.

Agatha opened her mouth, maybe getting caught up, maybe to snarl something, Zola didn't wait to find out. She caught the other girl's bottom lip in her teeth, drawing a surprised hiss out of Agatha. She felt her tense, close enough to feel her pulse pound, and that reaction helped assuage the sticky consideration that her game today was too, too off for this, that she had misjudged, that all her enemy saw was that she was frantic and sweaty and sour. She tasted blood and breath, and thought for a second that in the haze of stimulants she'd somehow bitten down much harder than she meant to, before remembering that she'd drawn the cow's blood earlier, on purpose, and it was still on her face. Bonafide Heterodyne blood. She pulled back one inch, two, to giggle.

“I'm still going to kill you,” Zola assured her rival in love and politics. “But now I think I’ll use you _up_ a bit first.” She giggled again, too high, too unhinged, oh well, use it. She drew back a little more to admire what she'd caught. The Heterodyne had gone quite red, red as strangulation. "Doesn't that sound just _lovely?_ " The words crowded out past her lips with practically no direction from her brain as she held the other woman to the wall, an outmoded goddess trapped in a cage.

 _Shewasnotthinkingclearly_ , she knew, butshewas **_determined._**

Zola had the fire of drugs burning under her skin, but Agatha was the one who shone in the gloom of this broken wreck, the sigil at her neck and her hair and the fire of her Spark. Like the way the summer light had glinted off Gil’s skin and he _never noticed her._

Agatha was flushing down to the slutty neckline and Zola was _winning_ , but then there was a fire in her eyes and it caught Zola off guard, just for a second, and the Heterodyne tart pressed her advantage by giving Zola an obvious once-over from her eyes down to her chest and back to her face, and that was the only reason Zola doesn’t stop her when she grabbed her by the upper arms, spun them both around, and slammed Zola into the wall. Zola hit the stone with a _hkk_ and then Agatha Heterodyne subverted her chances of recovery by leaning in to kiss her, not letting go of her arms.

Zola had kissed Sparks before (never the right Spark), and Agatha’s unforgiving assault had a distracting feeling of _I must explore every angle of this for science._ Zola needed to reclaim the advantage, so she reached down and grabbed a palmful of Agatha’s (enormous, unflattering) ass.

Gratifyingly, Agatha squeaked in surprise. She hesitated, plainly unsure whether to take offense or not. _Where’s your sense of adventure, Heterodyne?_ Zola could _work with this_.

The voice in her head, like Agatha's spun ninety degrees, laughed and said, ‘She’s pretty cute, right?’ lascivious. Zola quashed it down with violent force, because _notyourmoment notyours, **mine.**_

She needed to take this situation back, what to —

“ _Agatha!_ ”

The Heterodyne broke away with a sharp intake of air. Not her voice, not Zola's. The _green-haired tart_. She’d kill her for taking both their time, once she was done with — once she was done with...

Fuck it, she was just going to kill everyone in the building.

Agatha shoved Zola away from her in her haste to get out of her incriminating position. When she blinked and turned a fetching purple as she realized her mistake it was already a critical half second too late, and Zola was free again.

The pirate slut (‘The _Skifandrian_ , darling, do keep up....’) finally ran into sight. Warrior and student both lunged for Zola at once. They missed. She escaped. Later. She’d regroup and be back later.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is free associated from "Oil and Water" -> eh too generic -> UV rays can make at least one hydrophobic substance temporarily hydrophilic -> ah sun there you go. Striking a title balance between "short and generic" and "is this a Fallout Boy single" is the real trial.
> 
> I imagine this turning into some sort of 'Agatha collects everyone for her seraglio' 'verse where Zola ends up down the hall from the boys.


End file.
